


Demons, or Q really needs to find another Hobby

by Skylocked



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Cats, Fluff, M/M, bots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylocked/pseuds/Skylocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond is extremely ill with boredom, Q has the cure for his ailment... not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons, or Q really needs to find another Hobby

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing the havoc a single computer can cause... aka scrolling through your dashboard at midnight with caffeine running your circuitry and seeing 00Q references everywhere...
> 
> Meaning of course [THIS](http://skylocked.tumblr.com/post/47968581733/aim-of-johns-affections-skylocked)
> 
> And somehow (I know how) [Ordinary Numbers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/705037/chapters/1301146) managed to sneak it's way into this fic... I blame the narcoengiwriters.

\------------------------

James was bored out of his mind. His last mission had successfully ended a week ago and he still hadn’t received a new call for action. Currently, he was sprawled on the loveseat channel-surfing to find something to watch on TV. He’d change the channel in intervals that at most lasted a full minute but nothing could hold his interest longer, not even the _Doctor Who_ marathon running on BBC 1, and that was saying something.

Finally, after repeating the cycle of channel skipping about four and a half times, he gave up on the endeavor, turned the TV off, and tossed the remote aside getting up. He stretched his arms over his head, cracked his back and neck then flopped back down on the sofa.

“Bloody hell!” He groaned exasperated. He needed something to do, anything! He was too damn bored and just about ready to start shooting the wall.

Was there anything else left in his “Things to do when not engaged in a life threatening situation a.k.a stuck at home” list? He went over the list in his head. Drinking? Done. Reading Good Omens? Done. Bothering Q? Impossible at the moment, fuck. Fucking? Same. Drinking again?…

Getting up from the sofa a second time James made his way to the kitchen planning to retrieve the first bottle of alcohol he could get his hands on. If drinking was the only way to survive not being out in the field for fucking ever, so be it. He’d sacrifice himself for the cause… more or less.

He’d just opened one of the cupboards to fetch himself a glass when the mobile phone trapped in one of the back pockets of his white-washed jeans chimed; it was a text message. He reached for the device faster than one could say ‘scotch’ pulling it out and sliding his index finger over the screen almost in a frenzy. The disappointment when the text didn’t come from Tanner urging him to report to HQ for a new, highly classified and highly dangerous, mission had him almost throw the phone at the nearest wall, almost.

It was a message from Q.

“Matter of life or death. Come if convenient… actually come at once anyway. –Q10”

James’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that something might have happened to Q, but logic kicked its way back into his brain pushing aside his overprotective instincts as he realized that, had something bad actually happened, Q wouldn’t have contacted him with something as casual as _‘Matter of life or death’_ followed by an almost quote from _Sherlock_. But, Q was supposed to be very busy at work doing whatever it was that he and his minions did whenever, so why was his presence in MI6 required now?

As if on cue, his phone chimed again and he glanced at the screen, another text from Q.

“And I do mean come at once, as in _right this very moment_ 007 – Q 10”

“I know you haven’t left your flat yet James – Q10”

Instinctively, James looked around searching for the hidden cameras. Q must be watching him. Somehow the thought was actually arousing in a way and brought some rather indecent images of the Quartermaster doing naughty things to James’ mind. He shook his head to steer the inappropriate thoughts away focusing once more on the screen as the phone chimed a fourth time milliseconds after the previous message had arrived, Q was fast.

“The cave, _obviously_ – Q 10” 

_The cave?_ James wondered. Wasn’t Q supposed to be at work? Didn’t Q live down in the dungeons of MI6 anyway? What could he possibly be doing in the cave?

“Obviously – 007” James sent back, his smile amused.

“And please, do put a shirt on before you leave. Though I admit I rather enjoy the view, it’s not something I particularly enjoy sharing with the rest of London. – Q10”

James glanced down to his naked and damn-well-defined torso flexing his abs just because he was now certain Q was watching; a smug expression on his face. He was tempted to go out shirtless just to spite Q, but decided against it when he realized he couldn’t very well hide the Walther from sight without having to resort to such measures as to stuffing it in places only Jack Harness was known to have done.

Minutes later and he left his flat wrapped in his favoured leather jacket, Walther safely holstered underneath. He shouldn’t need it for whatever it was that his Quartermaster was summoning him for, but one could never be too careful when handsome geeks in loose cardigans with a tendency for making trouble with new shiny gadgets were involved. He might not have a clue as to what Q wanted him for, but one thing was certain, it would most bloody likely not be pretty.

\---

 

Q was leaving when James arrived, which was actually rather odd considering the texts he’d sent him.

“Oh! There you are!” Q smiled cheerfully as he spotted the agent walking his way.

James raised an eyebrow questioningly taking the few last steps towards reaching the Quartermaster.

“No time to explain, got a meeting with the hounds from E-branch.” Q rushed wrapping a light scarf around his neck. There were scratches on his hands, recent ones, some even bleeding Bond noticed.

“What happened?” He asked eyeing Q carefully and taking hold of one of his hands.

“Tiny little demons” was Q’s half chuckled response. “You’ll understand once you go inside.”

James could only imagine what was in store for him inside the cave. Had Q released an army of killer robots in the tiny space that was his flat? He’d done it once already, had ended up trapped in a cupboard and almost had James killed in the process. The memory made him shiver slightly.

“Please tell me it’s not another result of your bouts of narcoengineering Q”

“Dear me double-oh seven!” The quartermaster stared at him in mock disbelief. “The last time I invented something out of a _‘bout of narcoengineering’_ it was _you_ who said it had been brilliant!” James rolled his eyes.

“So what _do_ you have lurking deep in the crevices of your cave this time, my dear quartermaster?”

Q smiled nonchalantly with an expression that had ‘guilty’ written all over it.

“Though I’d love to introduce you, I really must be off. I’m running late as is. Please James, just keep an eye on them until I get back, yes?” He pleaded giving Bond the look he knew could make even M give in to even his wildest and most nonsensical demands... at least once in a while. “I’ll make it up to you later, promise!” He pressed a light kiss to James’ cheek and ran off.

\---------------------------

James didn’t even get the chance to protest when Q was already halfway to the elevators waving a hurried ‘see-you-later’ his way. By the time his brain had processed the information, which really hadn’t taken all that long mind you, Q had disappeared behind the lift doors and he was left staring at the keys to Q’s flat now resting on his open palm.

James sighed unlocking the door that was actually not even locked and braced himself for whatever would be waiting for him inside. He pushed the heavy door open and peeked inside wearily. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far. He stepped inside cautiously being mindful enough to close the door behind lest some of the ‘demons’ try to escape and wreak havoc on any unsuspecting victim that might cross their path.

He’d barely crossed the entrance hall when he heard them, _the demons_.

They were everywhere he could see. Climbing along the sides of Q’s only sofa. Atop the coffee table-place holder for all of Q’s pocket and not-so-pocket size electronic devices. Lurking behind the heavy auburn curtains blocking any outside light from filtering in. One had even managed to get itself stuck inside what seem to be a vase full of cables and other such components that resembled a bowl of ridiculously tangled inedible spaghetti more than anything.

James could feel a small headache beginning to creep into his head as he plucked the tiny ball of matted white and gray fur from the mess of cables. He set the struggling critter on the floor where it stayed still just long enough for James to straighten back up before it sprung back into action pouncing the moving bulge behind the curtains.

“Really Q?” James muttered under his breath as he counted just how many of the furry things his genius of a cat-magnet-quartermaster had managed to attract to his flat this time. There was the greystripped tabby that had gotten itself into the vase, the calico gnawing at his shoe relentlessly, two ginger toms chasing eachother around and under chairs, table, sofa and anything else that provided good for hiding and stalking. A fluffy, white-pelted kitten now looking triumphantly and with a sort of disdain down from the couch to the rest of the litter scattered about the flat, the tortoiseshell one peeking out curiously from behind the curtains, and last but certainly not least, a black-pelted kitten with impossibly white paws and muzzle attempting, and failing epicly, to climb to the ceiling fan using said curtains as leverage.

“Seven” The agent almost snorted. “Oh the irony” He left himself fall on the couch gaining an angry hiss from the white demon who had apparently decided the sitting space belonged solely to her. James tried to move her but only managed to get himself a nasty scratch and a show of tiny but dangerous teeth. He gave up and took one of the chairs instead, evil Snow Queen still sending dirty looks his way.

What the hell was he supposed to do? Q had said he’d be back as soon as possible, but that could be hours long, hell it could take all the bloody day! Did Q really expect him to stay there babysitting the seven crazy little demons until he returned?.

He did.

James groaned loudly and the calico at his feet meowed in response clawing his calf as it climbed happily up his leg. James hissed in pain, the thought of shaking the thing off and sending it flying across the room having it possibly land neatly on the blades of the spinning ceiling fan growing more and more appealing by the second. He resisted the urge though, and going against his killer instincts he carefully picked the kitten up by the curf setting it more or less gently across his lap. The cat rubbed himself against Bond purring contentedly as it left small tufts of fur on his pants and shirt then curled up to take a nap on Bond’s chest rendering him immobile.

_“I really hate you right now Q - 007”_


End file.
